


Flicker

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Discussions of Suicidal Thoughts, F/M, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Secret Relationship, Taking Care of Your Reckless Partner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-03-30 21:50:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13960746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: John gets shot.Alexander tries to keep it together.





	1. The Storm

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy while i do one of my favorite things: shoot my favorite character

 

Alexander got out of the bed carefully, trying not to make a sound. John was still asleep, mouth half open, hair tangled and messy. His arms were stubbornly wrapped around Hamilton’s waist in a leisurely display of closeness, blissfully unaware of it. Alex smiled at the sight, forgetting for a moment the difficulties the day was sure to bring.

The world hadn’t been a gentle place lately; little things like this were worth treasuring.

Standing by the cot, Alexander got dressed. His body ached from the cold. He tried to ignore it, focusing instead on covering himself with as many layers as possible. His old coat was not enough to keep him from the perils of the unforgiving winter, but he had never been one to complain. Once he was done, he tried to leave the cabin, pausing by the door to gaze back at Laurens’ sleeping form.

In that moment, John’s eyes fluttered open.

“Where’re you goin’?”, he slurred, only half awake.

“I have to start working early today”

“Why?”

“So I’ll have time to spend with you before you leave in the afternoon”

John hummed, his brow furrowed. He would not remember this conversation later. He opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t manage to say a thing; instead, he stuck out his tongue, like that was a reasonable response. Charmed by this involuntary display of vulnerability, Alexander gave him a little kiss on the cheek, a gesture that was both a sign of affection and an act of reassurance. Laurens smiled placidly and closed his eyes again.

“Alright?”, Alex asked, his voice merely a whisper.

“Fair ‘nuff”, John replied, already falling asleep.

There was something beautiful about leaving Laurens there to sleep, warm and secure in the comfort of their room. It was rare for any member of the army to have a moment to rest; the fact that he could ensure an extra hour of sleep for Laurens made Alexander both proud and relieved. It would be a part of their secret. Despite the complicated nature of their relationship, Hamilton considered it a blessing; as long as he could count on Laurens’ candid smile to be there for him after an exhausting day, he felt at peace.

Alexander left the room in silence, ready to face the day ahead.

 

* * *

 

 

“It’s a two-day ride, three if the snow persists”, the General spoke gravely, his eyes fixed on the map on his desk, “your mission is to deliver the information and convince our allies of the strategy’s benefits, so you must keep your composure and act according to plan. You will receive further instructions once you arrive”.

Lafayette was standing in front of the General, his posture firm and undeterred despite the daunting nature of the man’s commands. Beside him, Laurens stood nervously, averting his gaze from his commander. He glanced at Hamilton, who sat by his desk in the other corner of the room. No response. He took a deep breath and looked back at Washington.

“Yes, sir”, they said in unison.

The General’s expression became slightly kinder.

“Take care. You are to report your condition once you’ve arrived at the northwest camp”, Washington paused, taking a step forward to rest his hands on the men’s shoulders, “good luck”

“Thank you, sir”, they both said.

From his desk, Hamilton attempted to glance discretely at the men that were leaving the office. The General was standing in the way, blocking his view and making him sigh in frustration. Despite his arrival at the office in the early hours of the morning, he had not been able to finish his work before the sunset. Being unable to leave his desk while Laurens was preparing himself to leave the camp was certainly frustrating, if not downright infuriating.

The door opened again, and a familiar figure appeared. Alexander quickly understood what was going to happen, his anger dissipating immediately.

“Lafayette, what happened”, the General greeted the young man, smiling easily.

“Excuse me!”, Gilbert said cheerily, “I’m forgot I needed our dear Hamilton’s assistance before I leave”

“And why would that be?”, Alexander said, attempting to make his voice sound as genuinely concerned as possible.

“I need help with a—”, Lafayette paused for a moment, “personal issue. My friend is helping me with my correspondence while I’m away and I wished to give him some instructions before I leave”

“Can’t you get anyone else?”

“ _I’m afraid only my closest friends would be able to translate accurately_ ”, Gilbert said in French, “ _and I thought he would be the best option”_

“Go ahead, Hamilton”, Washington said, without even questioning Lafayette’s dubious claims.

“I’ll be right back, sir”, Alexander said, walking towards Lafayette at a brisk pace.

The two men left the office, forgetting to close the door behind them. Hamilton gave Lafayette a quick pat on the back. He was grinning mischievously, containing his laughter. Gilbert scoffed at his attitude, but he still smiled.

“You are a blessing”, Alexander murmured.

“It’s the least I could do”

“Let’s go”, Hamilton said in a hurry, already walking down the stairs.

 

* * *

  

Laurens was standing by his horse’s side at the camp entrance. His fingers were tangled in the mare’s mane in thinly veiled impatience. He turned around when he heard Alexander and Lafayette approach.

“Hey”, he said, quirking an eyebrow.

“Hey”, Hamilton replied, wrapping his arms around the other man.

Laurens allowed the hug to last for an instant, before taking the chance to grab his friend by the arm and walk away from the other man. Alexander glanced at him, questioning his attitude, but did not say anything about it.

“You made it”, John said as he held Alexander’s hand, “I’m so glad I get to see your face before—”

“Will you write?”

“I will, I promise”

“You better do, or I’ll have to go and _find you_ ”

John chuckled. He squeezed Hamilton’s hand and then let go of it, focusing his attention in the road ahead of him.

“Maybe next time they’ll send you instead”

“I hope so, I’m tired of being the one that has to wait”

“It’s not that bad. At least you’re safe”

Laurens seemed to be smiling, but the gesture was subtle, and disappeared before long. Not wanting to interrupt whatever musings he was entertaining, Alexander joined him in his contemplation, eyes glancing over the frozen landscape. A thin layer of snow covered everything in sight— it was going to be a miserable ride.

“Well, you better go back to work”, Laurens said.

“Ah, yes”, Hamilton murmured, suddenly flustered. To spend these last minutes together by staring at nothing was unacceptable. John noticed his frustration, but did not seem annoyed by it.

 “You’re looking kinda pale”, he said, “come here”

With a cheeky smile on his face, Laurens took the scarf he was wearing and wrapped it around Alexander’s neck, partially covering his face. Hamilton huffed angrily.

“There, we don’t want you getting sick or anything!”

Suddenly, the cold didn’t matter. John was beaming, utterly charmed by Alexander’s appearance and reaction; eyes as bright as the sun, hazel with flickers of gold. He hugged Alex briefly, ruffled his hair, kissed his forehead. Hamilton sighed at the contact, smiling faintly despite his worry.

“Take care, alright?”, he murmured, voice muffled by the scarf, “I know you all too well, and I don’t want you die”

“That’s a loaded sentence”, John said, “you should’ve saved it for when I’m back”

“I never save things for later”

“I’ll be fine”, Laurens whispered, averting his gaze from the other man, “I’ll try my best to stay safe”

“I’ll miss you, Jack”

“I’ll miss you too”

Silence. Snow began to fall. John stared at Alexander –shoulders, eyes, lips—, getting lost in thought. Maybe just one time.  The present was fleeting. Their mission was supposed to be a small affair, but there was always a risk, and he knew his own character. Alexander was right to be afraid. Maybe just one time, as a goodbye; saving things for later was never an option, not with the nature of their lives, his constant recklessness, his eagerness to—

“Laurens, let’s go”, Lafayette said, placing his hand on John’s shoulder.

John nodded.

 

* * *

 

 

He first knew something was wrong when they were crossing the river.

After two days of riding and almost no sleep, Laurens was hardly alert. Lafayette was beside him, keeping his spirits up by telling a story about his wife. His voice was as soothing as a lullaby. John let out a yawn.

The sun had barely begun to appear when he noticed it. Their destination wasn’t too far, he knew that much; but it was enough, still enough for him to know those steps he heard were not normal. Heavy steps, shuffling. Something hiding behind the trees.

“Gil”, he said in a serious tone, “wait”

Gilbert looked at him in confusion for a moment, but quickly realized what was happening. His grip tightened around the box he carried, which held the papers they were intended to deliver. Laurens eyes were fixed on the pine trees ahead, waiting for any sign, any movement. Lafayette drew a shaky breath.

“Keep moving forward”, Laurens murmured, “they’re waiting for you at camp”

“They’re waiting for us”

“It doesn’t matter. Keep moving”

Then, a shot was heard. John’s horse flinched, there was another shot; in a second, the scene devolved into chaos, as a confusing group of enemies surrounded them. Laurens guided his horse towards the man that was blocking their path.

“Run!”, John ordered, and Gilbert obeyed.

Two swords gleamed in the morning light, their blades barely missing Lafayette. He ignored the danger, ignored his instinct to stay and fight. Never looking back, never stopping; that was the only way he could survive the unexpected. He had to do it. One of them had to escape.

As he rode past John, another shot rang. Warm blood splattered Gilbert’s face. He hesitated. Turning around he caught a glimpse of what had happened: Laurens was clutching his shoulder, a steady flow of blood seeping through his fingers. Metal gleamed, clashed against flesh. Lafayette felt himself falter.

“I said run!”, John screamed, his voice strangled and broken.

Shaking, Gilbert did as he was told, leaving his friend behind.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> coming up next: burr is a good friend and also very tired


	2. The Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander is all alone.

Days went by quickly, their rhythm leaving no room for darker thoughts. There was no time to waste when there was so much work to do. Legs trembling from the cold, Hamilton walked towards the office at a brisk pace, entering the room without knocking. The sight of a large stack of papers on his desk was a relief; exhaustion was harmful, but he was convinced idleness was worse.

“Hello, Alexander,” Washington said, looking at him from his desk.

“Hello,” Alex replied, feeling the weight of the General’s gaze on his shoulders.

Alexander looked away and tried to focus on the unfinished draft he had in front of him. Just like the days prior, pages upon pages of plans and letters were stacked on the wooden surface, waiting to be revised.

“Did you get enough sleep?”

“Yes, sir,” Alexander replied, only mildly fazed by the nature of the question.

Washington was not an intimidating person; he certainly was striking, and his seriousness could come off as daunting, but his heart was in the right place, and he cared deeply about his men. Alexander tried to keep those good intentions in mind as the General continued to talk.

“Tell me, Hamilton, did you notice anything strange about John Laurens before he left?”, he asked, eyes still focused on the document he was reading.

Alexander visibly tensed up, “no sir, I have not noticed anything out of the ordinary.”

He wondered if the general knew.

“He’s been awfully enthusiastic about taking assignments away from camp,”  the General insisted. “Perhaps you know what has him so eager to leave?”

“He’s good, sir, he’s just like that,” Hamilton said, almost sighing with relief. “Always eager for a good fight.”

“Perhaps I should worry about that,” Washington said, laughing. “You two are birds of a feather.”

The word choice made Hamilton wince. He attempted to laugh, though the sound came off as a nervous rattle. His relationship with the General needed distance: close enough to feel familiar, but not enough for him to be vulnerable. Anything else was uncomfortable. Their current situation was uncomfortable.

“It’s not my own concern that bring me to ask you,” the General spoke calmly, not aware of the tension his conversation had raised. “His father is the one that’s worried. He has asked me about his son’s recent endeavors, about his brash behavior. You know he got shot at—”

“I remember perfectly,” Alexander said, perhaps a bit too quickly.

“It’s a bit worrying, that behaviour. I’ve seen young people like you two die way too early because of those impulses.”

 “I’m sure nothing will happen to Laurens, sir.” 

“If you tell me all is well, then I don’t have any reason not to believe you.” the General said, his tone all too light for the topic of conversation. “Still, be careful, alright?”

“Yes sir.” he replied, his voice wavering slightly.

The General nodded, satisfied with his response.

Tension could be felt in the air even hours after the conversation had ended. Although he still believed to be right, the General’s words had left Hamilton feeling restless, filling his mind with questions he knew he couldn’t ask. He didn’t want to worry about John, much less now, but he couldn’t help but wonder if Washington’s concerns were not unfounded. Their goodbye had felt strange, or at least it did upon reflection. Laurens did not fear the worst. They had talked about it before, during nights that Alexander longed not to remember. The mere idea made his heart beat a little faster.  

Lost in thought, Hamilton didn’t even notice when the General left the room. It wasn’t unusual to be alone in the office, so he kept on writing. It was the only thing that kept him calm in days like these. Only when his candle flickered and faltered did he stop and look around, finding himself enveloped in absolute darkness.

He was all alone. There were people he could go to, but Alexander was not one to beg for kindness; this was his personal hell, all silence and shadows, with nothing to shape his racing thoughts. Suddenly stricken by his solitude, Alexander buried his face in the scarf that was still wrapped around his neck. He wondered if, in case everything went wrong, this was going to be his destiny: lonely hours of writing, working until he was too numb to understand just how empty he was. It truly was a foreboding thought.

The moon was up when the door creaked open, breaking the shadows that had enveloped Alexander in his restless musings. The sudden light that invaded the room startled him. He turned around violently.

“Who’s there?” Hamilton asked, still holding the quill he’d been using hours ago.

“It’s me,” a deep voice said.

Alexander turned around to see Aaron Burr standing by the door, holding a lamp and looking at him with concern. Aaron stood a certain way, and had a particular way to look at people that felt slightly imposing, like he believed himself to be above everyone else, no matter where he was. Perhaps it was intentional, perhaps it was Hamilton finding meaning where there was none; either way, it made him just upset enough to ruin his mood any day. Despite Burr not opening his mouth to say anything else, Alexander scoffed at him, not even bothering to stand up and properly greet him.

“It’s pretty late,” Burr said rather timidly, eyes looking around the room in poorly disguised worry.

“Yes, you should be sleeping.”

“So should you.”

Hamilton raised an eyebrow, looked at him. Burr was standing right beside him, eyes fixed on Hamilton; too kind, too condescending. Suspicious. Aaron raised both his hands, as if trying to calm down a wild animal. The gesture was infuriating, but also extremely sincere, and Alexander could appreciate sincerity, even if it came from Burr. He un-clenched his jaw and sighed.

“Fair enough.” he growled.

“I think I know why you’re so upset,” Burr murmured, kind yet cautious.

“Be careful with what you’re about to say,” Alexander said, “because you can’t mess with me, I know what _you_ are hiding.”

“We have more in common than you imagine.”

“What are you implying, Burr?” Alexander almost growled, although his voice trembled with worry.

“Do you want to know?”

He glared at Burr, waiting for any sign of regret, but the man didn’t seem intimidated at all; in fact, his expression was every bit as immutable as it had been before, peaceful to the point of smugness.

“Care for a drink?”, Burr said.

“Alright, why not.” Alexander replied reluctantly. “But it’s on you.”

 

* * *

 

Despite the imminence of defeat, he kept on fighting.

Sword slashing left and right, Laurens made his own path towards hell, striving to take as many men with him as possible. Nothing mattered in the heat of the battle; there was no home, no heart, no burden. His only mission was to block the enemies’ path, and get Lafayette time to escape. The wounds he received were not important.

The deliverance he got amidst the chaos was like the sensation he got when he managed to stealthily sink his own blade into his flesh: a sort of catharsis, an appropriate punishment for someone like him, who had committed every sin and failed everyone. It was not exactly a pleasant feeling, but it gave him enough solace.

Another shot rang. Laurens fell from his horse, hit the ground violently; hands touched him, searching for the papers he didn’t have. He didn’t know how it all ended. He woke up already freezing, his body limp and heavy, horse nowhere to be seen. The firmament was dark and starless above him. Through clouded eyes he looked at the horizon, that distant line covered in snow and barely discernible from the wintry sky. He couldn’t feel his right arm. His side still ached from where the second shot had hit him, and his chest hurt from some indistinct hit he’d received when he’d fallen from his mount. Blood was blooming from his every wound, painting the snow around him a sickly shade of red.

John Laurens realized he was dying.

There was no dignity in a death like this. Perhaps he did not deserve any dignity. His eyes were rolling back into his head and _Lafayette_ — the papers mattered. Laurens could only hope his friend had made it to camp. Lafayette, and his Father, and Alexander’s warmth; he could not die, not _now_. John grasped his wounded shoulder and squeezed until he cried out in pain. How foolish of him to forget. He had made a promise. He could not die like this.

Shakily, John stood up, cloudy eyes gazing over the landscape. He began to slowly walk north, trying to follow the marks left by Gilbert’s horse. A trail of red was left behind him, as the snow continued to fall. Foolish, naïve, meaningless. Cold air crept up his lungs and clouded his mind, his heart beating fast and shallow.

Without warning, Laurens legs gave up and he fell face-first into the ground. Not too far away, voices called his name.

* * *

 

The letter arrived two days later. The storm had finally subsided, and gentle rays of light worked on melting the snow outside. The office was unusually cluttered, with officers walking around and papers being delivered. Alexander sat at his desk, reading over the General’s correspondence in silence.

“Anything urgent, Alexander?” Washington asked, standing by his side.

“No, sir,” Hamilton replied, “I will take care of everything, you don’t have to worry.”

“I saw there was a letter from Lafayette,” the older man said, and Hamilton’s eyes lit up.

“Oh, how did I miss it?” Alexander said as he eagerly looked through the stash of papers, “I’ll read it immediately!”

It didn’t take him too long to find the letter. Lafayette’s calligraphy was a pleasant sight, and his words were an even better treat. Alexander read through the letter quickly, almost distractedly; it took him two tries to actually understand what was being said. Then, his heart sank. The feeling was so sudden that it almost was impossible to hide.

“Sir,” he said, “the papers have arrived safely at the northwest camp.”

Some meters away, Aaron Burr looked at him, having noticed the faint trembling on Hamilton’s voice. The General peeked over Alexander’s shoulder, trying to read the letter that he was so tightly holding.

“Oh, that’s good news. Have our friends managed to convince the-”

“They were ambushed on their way to their destination”, Hamilton interrupted, “John Laurens has been shot.”

The room went silent.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super special thanks to Ki_Writes for beta-reading and checking grammar! Lots of love to them.
> 
> Writing is hard and I lose my patience very quickly, but your kind comments motivate me to keep going /heart emoji, the one with the sparkles


	3. The Invisible Line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yall I'm back with this... monster...
> 
> It gets pretty cheesy so be careful. It's not the most, eh, clean-cut piece I've written but hey, we're here to have fun and read about people loving each other

So the General was right.

As the room became silent, Hamilton tried desperately to find an explanation in the paragraphs in front of him, a clue as to what had gone wrong. There were no descriptions, and the words were vague; either that, or his terrified mind refused to understand what he was reading. Concise words painted a bleak picture of the state his friend was in: he was clinging to life, but his future looked bleak. At least he’d been alive when the letter had been written.

Burr looked at Hamilton discretely, waiting for any cues on how to proceed. Dark eyes fixed on the letter, muscles visibly tense; Hamilton was lost in thought; inaccessible, gone. Aaron swore he could hear something breaking, but no one else seemed to acknowledge it.

“Alexander, give me that letter,” the General said.

“Yes, sir,” he responded with surprising poise.

Washington glared at the men in the office as he grabbed the envelope. His glance alone was enough to make a few of them leave the room. Burr watched as the General read over Lafayette’s words, his brow furrowing as he reached the final part of it. He coughed and turned around to face Hamilton, who was looking at him expectantly.

“It’s good to know that our dear Lafayette has managed to complete his task despite these obstacles,”, he said, staring as Alexander’s face became pale, “it’s a pity the Lieutenant Colonel had to act in such a way, but we cannot deny he was brave.”

“Aren’t we going to do anything about it?”, the young man snapped.

“There is nothing we can do but wait.”

“Someone has been _shot_ , there must be something we can do.”

Aaron had never understood how Hamilton remained unrelenting in situations like this. His voice was raising dangerously, and the General was becoming more and more tense. In a moment of clarity, Burr left the room, trying to be as quiet as possible.

His sense of empathy made him wait by the door.

The conversation went on for what seemed like forever. The men’s voices were quiet enough not to be heard by Aaron, but he could perfectly guess what was happening inside the room. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on something else, patient and silent until the door creaked open. Alexander stood by his side, eyes fixed on the wooden floor. There was no correct way to approach the subject. Burr looked at him, his expression perfectly kind. It had never worked before, but for some reason it did now; instead of leaving, Alexander sighed and pressed his back against the wall.

“Everything good?,” Aaron asked.

“Apparently I need to take a break” Alexander  mumbled.

“Did you have breakfast?”

“Haven’t eaten anything since yesterday.”

“Come here,” Burr said, cautiously resting his hand on Hamilton’s shoulder, “we’ll get you something”

 

* * *

“They can do everything without me. They say there’s no need to have me around to deal with this, so they sent me out, like I’m not being useful, like I don’t care”, Alexander said, rambling and furious, as he tried to bite into a piece of stale bread, “but _I care_ , Burr. I wish I didn’t, but I do.”

Aaron stretched out his legs and took a bite of his bread. They were sitting by the river, the grass under them still damp with melted snow. Alexander was speaking fast. Burr had enough experience with these situations to know he’d break down at any moment.

“Are you worried?”

“Worried?”, he barked, “I’m not worried, Burr, I’m mad.”

“Why would you be mad?”

“Because I don’t need this right now,” Alex paused, “you wouldn’t understand.”

The river was a calming sight. Aaron focused on the water in front of him, the constant movement of the waves. Slow, unrelenting and steady. He took a deep breath.

“You’re worried about John”

He’d known for months now. The way the two men looked at each other made it evident- or at least it did for him, who knew the hardships of secret relationships. He couldn’t approve of what was happening, nor did he want to support it, but he did understand the distress the situation could cause.

Hamilton stopped to stare at Burr. He had been taken by surprise, and didn’t know how to react. Burr chewed on a piece of bread and swallowed slowly, as if giving him time to let the words sink in.

“I would be concerned, too, if I were in your situation. There are not many things as hard to endure as uncertainty.”

“This is not about Laurens, it’s about a mission failing and the General denying me permission to go and try to fix things.”

“So that’s what you asked the General. You wanted to go to the camp where Laurens is?”

“It’s not that,” Alexander insisted, but his voice was wavering, “I’m just concerned about the assignment, and angry at John for having fucked up like this.”

“Alex, let me tell you something.”

Racing mind coming to a halt, Hamilton looked at Burr. Aaron’s voice was terrifying in its firmness, like an accusation, a predator ready to pounce. Realization hit Alex quickly, making him tense up as he prepared himself for a fight.

“Perhaps this is not a good moment,” he said, voice firm and daring.

“You will listen. You’re walking a dangerous path, and as your friend, I will do anything I can to keep you both safe.”

Hamilton was surprised at the plural.

“I can see why you’d want to be by Laurens’ side right now, but if you keep insisting, the General will grow suspicious,” Aaron continued to explain in the most patient voice, “and that would get you both in a lot of trouble. If you stay calm and play it smart, it’ll become much easier for you to go through this.”

“He could die, Burr”, Hamilton snapped, “I need to know.”

“You _need_ to be discrete if you want things to work out. There really is nothing you can do to help right now.”

“You don’t know anything about this. You wouldn’t understand, because you don’t care about anyone”

“That’s not true, and you know it.”

Hamilton took a deep breath and glanced around, making sure they were alone. Then, he looked back at his friend, who still sat completely calm beside him.

“Why are you telling me all this?” he finally asked.

“Because I understand you.”

“How so,” Alexander growled.

“I know what is is to keep a secret lover.”

Lover. The word felt heavy, made his gut twist. It was a childish thing, to be fretting over titles when Laurens’ life was in danger, but Alexander couldn’t help himself. He never could. He shook the thought away and focused on Burr’s confession instead.

“So the rumors are true.”

“I’m afraid they are,” Aaron said.

“Aren’t you afraid of the consequences?”

“I chose this, Alexander, I knew what I was getting into,” Burr was awfully calm as he spoke, “even if nothing works out at the end, I’ve already made a decision.”

“So that’s… how that is.”

“Yeah. Now, back to you…”

“No, it’s not the moment.”

“You must be careful. I’m begging you, Alexander, don’t do anything you’ll regret later.”

Hamilton looked down, heart beating fast for reasons he didn’t quite understand, didn’t want to understand. Everything Burr was saying was absurd, a ridiculous option that he would not listen to. Thoughts of John, of death and solitude began to take over, and Alexander stood up as if that helped keep them at bay.  Someone not far away called his name. He turned around sharply.

“If you really understood, you’d help me instead of holding me down.”

“Alexander,” Burr murmured.

“Goodbye.”

* * *

Laurens fought like a beast possessed.

He fought against the doctor, the hands that held him down; fought the effects of the bitter liquid they forced down his throat, and the piercing of the tools that attempted to put him back together. He fought until he was exhausted, breathing heavily and in the edges of a fever just from struggling too much.

Then, he sunk into darkness.

Fighting was the only thing he’d ever know how to do. He had been born in the fire that now burned his entire body, had never know anything but the depths of hell in which he was trapped. Amidst the flames, he heard a voice calling him, asking for him to stop. He wondered what it meant.

It was his father. His father, telling him to stop crying as Laurens desperately grasped his mother’s cold, dead hand. The man grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him away, squeezing him hard enough to make him howl in pain. John looked at his father and tried to apologize, but there was a hand under his chin, pulling him up. One second and his father was gone. The voice insisted, _stop, stop,_ but Laurens knew he had to rebel against the command.

It was Alexander. Alexander with his eyes closed and begging for him to stop teasing him, John’s shoulder on Alex’s mouth as their bodies moved together. But instead of the honeyed bliss it usually brought, Hamilton’s bite burned like poison, spreading fast to his side where it became unbearable. Laurens pushed him away, to no avail. Hands kept clawing at his skin, tearing him apart. He felt himself scream, but didn’t hear anything.

_Stop, stop._

_Stop hurting yourself,_ his friends had implored _._ But Laurens only knew how to fight; destroying was part of his nature, a fatal flaw that couldn’t be changed. He was beyond redemption, an animal made to hurt and pale in comparison to the creatures of beauty that surrounded him. The best he could do was to give himself to them, let them feed on his flesh. Yet he still fought against the teeth that sank into his side, not knowing how or why. Stop, they ordered, but he didn’t listen.

“Stop,” the voice said once again, and this time Laurens opened his eyes.

John recognized the infirmary.  The smell of cheap wine and blood was heavy in the air, accompanied by moans of pain that he failed to identify as his own. The man holding him down was working with the doctor.

“Stop struggling!” the man said, “do you want to die?”

Laurens didn’t know the answer to that.

He woke up a few hours later, mind muddled by a mix of exhaustion and blood loss. His voice was just loud enough to be heard by the man that was sitting by his side. Lafayette. Good, gentle Lafayette running his fingers through his hair, looking so hopelessly terrified.

“Gil?”, John asked, his voice merely a whisper.

“’I’m here,” his friend murmured.

He sounded completely broken. It was unnatural to hear such weakness coming from someone who was always so cheery.  John felt something rising in his chest, a growing worry that he couldn’t identify. He felt exposed; guilty, like a young child that’s been caught disobeying an order. But he was not a kid anymore, and he had not misbehaved.

Had him?

“‘M sorry, Gil,” Laurens slurred.

A pause. Lafayette rested his hand on Laurens’ forehead, looked at him, waited. His eyes were gleaming with poorly contained tears.

“John Laurens”, Lafayette said, his voice shaking, “are you apologizing for getting shot?”

Laurens stared at him.

He tried to sit up, but was quickly stopped as he became aware of the pain on his side. The world was freezing around him, sending shivers down his spine. A warm liquid poured from somewhere above his hip; John wanted to say something, anything, but the room was beginning to spin. He reached for Lafayette’s hand and squeezed it weakly.

“I’m gon’ die”, John mumbled as his vision became blurry.

“You just got through something difficult,” Lafayette said, voice breaking, “try to rest, I’ll be here with you.”

Everything went dark again, but this time there were no voices.

* * *

Aaron found Alexander in his room that night, writing under the pale candlelight. A bag rested by his cot, and he was dressed for the cold outside. There was no need to ask what was happening.

“Alexander.”

“Burr.”

Aaron placed his hands on Hamilton’s shoulders. Alex pushed him away. He pressed the letter he was writing to his chest, jaw tense like a dog about to bite. Burr took a step back.

“I needed to-”

“Why did you come here,” Alexander interrupted.

“I needed to tell you something,” Aaron said, his tone emphasizing the harmless nature of his actions.

“Well, you’re not welcome.”

“Alex, I just wanna make sure you’re fine,” Burr said, “will you tell me what’s going on?”

Alexander glanced at him, so visibly upset. He slowly placed down the letter and moved to sit on the cot. Laurens’ scarf was carefully folded on top of it, untouched since the day he had left.

“I’m going to see him.” Hamilton said defiantly.

It was evident, but something still surprised Aaron: there was not a trace of doubt in Alexander’s voice, he had already made a decision. He knew him well enough to know his determination was unwavering, but this was absurd. The idea of Alexander risking his future for someone else was laughable.

“Alexander…”

“John is dying. I’m not gonna sit around and wait til a letter arrives saying he’s gone. Even if I can’t do anything to prevent it, I wanna be there for him, and no amount of arguments will change my mind.”

“You are being intransigent.”

“And you’re being a fogey, a stick in the mud. I will not compromise the well-being of someone I care about just to be proper in your eyes.”

“I’m trying to-”

“You know what frustrates me the most? What drives me up the fucking wall?”, Alex interrupted, “that you’re acting like I’m being crazy, like you don’t understand. You said I shouldn’t do anything I would regret, so I’m following your advice.”

Burr left his lamp on the desk and sat by Hamilton’s side. He looked at the man in front of him -raging storm, unstoppable thunder-, and wondered what to say, how to reply to that. He knew he’d never be in that situation, because the woman he loved was not as reckless as Laurens, but he also understood he could not explain that to Hamilton. Alexander was hurting, burning up, but it wasn’t a good moment to tell him that Laurens was just another fire.

Their love was the same, temerarious and uncertain, and Burr could sympathize with that.

“What I’m trying to say is that I thought about what you said,” Aaron said, “and you’re right, I should help you.”

“Go on,” Hamilton said cautiously.

“I’ve talked to the General,” Burr said, “I got your back, just go.”

“Are you trying to trick me now?” Alexander was quick to reply.

“No, it’s true.” Burr sighed, “he’s convinced this will teach you a lesson. I came here to inform you, you’re free to go. Go before I regret it.”

Alexander glanced at the letter on the desk. He retrieved it, placed it on Burr’s hands. It was a note for the General, justifying his imminent actions. Alex glared at Aaron in defiance, but he didn’t flinch.

“Be careful, Alexander,” Burr said as Hamilton approached the door, “he’s making you lose your good judgement.”

With one single movement, Hamilton took the scarf and the bag, then kicked the door open, cold wind welcoming him with its embrace. He didn't turn around.

“Goodbye, Burr,” Alex said, emotionless.

“Goodbye, Hamilton.”

* * *

The journey was supposed to take two days, but Hamilton completed it in just one. Burr’s words were on his mind, invading his thoughts; he wouldn’t have been able to sleep even if he tried to. He arrived at midnight, furiously knocking on every door he could find. Confused faces stared at him; soon, he was recognized by a higher rank official, who was kind enough to guide him to where Lafayette was. His friend welcomed him with a hug.

“Oh, Alex, I’m not even going to ask how you got here.”

“Don’t. I’m probably gonna be sent home after this.”

“To hell with that. To hell with everything.”

Lafayette jumped back into the cabin, just to come back a minute later with a coat and a lamp. They crossed the camp at a brisk pace, hardly exchanging words as they reached the almost empty infirmary. The air on the tent was thick and heavy, making Alexander immediately sick. He kept moving forward nonetheless.

“How is him?” Alexander said, his tone serious.

“He’s recovering from surgery. Ah, Alexander, he’s lost too much blood, it was everywhere...”

“He’ll get better, now where-?”

Lafayette pointed at the bed in front of them, leaving Alexander frozen in place. John was unconscious, hair untied and wild like a halo around his face. Even in this state he looked beautiful, although his stillness was unnerving. Hamilton took a step forward, but he couldn’t move any further.

Now that John was in front of him, Alexander could finally think properly. All the adrenaline, the nervousness of the previous days was gone in an instant. With this new clarity making him realize what he’d done, Hamilton realized just how mindless his actions had been. There was a line being crossed. The moment Laurens woke up, there would be no way to deny their bond; Alexander had risked everything to be here, he could no longer escape the reason behind his actions. He thought about Burr’s comment the previous day, when he’d said he _knew what he was getting into_. Was he ready for this? A bullet to the shoulder had been enough to make Alexander ride all the way here, make him lose sleep and defy the General. This was not a life someone with clear goals like him could lead.

John was going to be his doom. He’d fallen victim to hazel eyes, gotten lost in the beauty of the blaze that Laurens was. Burr had been right in his assessment: Hamilton hadn’t been thinking straight when he’d decided to come here. He slowly walked towards the bed. Another step, another twinge of doubt. He couldn’t do this, could not follow an impossible dream. John was going to be the end of him, he was going to-

“Alex?” a weak voice said.

Alexander felt his heart flutter.

“Oh god, John,” he said as he walked towards the cot, falling to his knees as he reached it.

“Why are y’all here?” Laurens asked, looking at Lafayette from under half-lidded eyes.

“Because you got hurt, you dumbass,” Hamilton replied, a smile on his face.

“Oh yeah,” John nodded, eyes fluttering closed, “sorry.”

Lafayette let out a laugh, which made Hamilton chuckle awkwardly too. Laurens tried to sit up so he could have a better look at the scene, but a sharp pain on his shoulder made him fall back into the cot.

“Easy there, you fucking idiot,” Alexander was quick to say, “you’ve done enough already.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Gilbert said, already turning around.

Alexander gave him a nod. Alone in the dark, the two young men looked at each other, silence conveying whatever emotions they could not express. John was way too weak for conversation, but his hand reached out to hold Alexander’s. Even that seemed to take a lot of effort. He winced, startling Hamilton, who quickly squeezed his lover’s hand.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just a bit tired.”

“You should sleep some more,” Alex said as he ran his fingers through John’s messy hair.

“You came all the way here for me?” Laurens murmured.

“I was worried sick. You got shot, what else did you expect me to do?”

“Shit, I'm sorry," John said, his voice hoarse and frail, "I couldn’t even keep my promise."

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Alexander said, “there’s no need to talk about that right now.”

“I promise I won’t die,” Laurens whispered, already drifting away to sleep.

“Yeah, that’s good enough” Hamilton replied, his tone light and playful.

John fell asleep before he could add anything else. Hamilton rested his head on the pillow, holding hands with his best friend.  The sound of Laurens’ breathing was calming; calming enough to help him forget how disastrous the previous days had been. Tomorrow there would be a lot of things to explain, but for now, the world was at peace. Before long, he was asleep too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was _not_ checked by anyone so the grammar might be off, and some phrasing might be weird. If anything's too bad, let me know and I'll fix it.
> 
> In another note, if we're talking about the musical, I firmly believe Hamilton would leave Laurens to die without a second thought if his future was on the line. But hell we're here to see them kiss. It's good. It's all good.
> 
> They do kiss in the final chapter it's great


	4. The Question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me to myself: You could write anything. You could be writing Eric Andre x Nathan for You erotica and no one could stop you.
> 
> also me: You're already writing hamilton fanfiction you heathen please control yourself
> 
> Jokes aside, mind the tags for this one

John woke up to the sound of people talking outside the tent, their voices muffled and distant. In his daze, he could vaguely recognize one name being mentioned; he’d read it on the letter they’d delivered. Lafayette’s bright voice was also prominent, his tone eager as he clearly attempted to charm someone. Gilbert trying to convince another man; the assignment. Of course, how could he forget?

Without thinking, Laurens pushed himself up; or tried to, at least, before a pair of hands and his own lack of strength brought him back to the cot.

“Calm down, sir,” a youthful voice whispered to him, “Lafayette’s busy. You left him to do all the work alone! Don’t even think about getting up, you need a bath at least before you’re presentable.”

“Sir?” Laurens turned to the side to see Alexander, sitting there with a smile on his face, “since when do you call me  _ sir _ ?”

“Oh, would you rather have me call you something else?” Alexander leaned forward, his lips brushing against John’s ear. “Something like darling?  _ Baby _ ?”

“Oh, that’d be good,” John said with a small smile, but it quickly faded away as he sunk back into the pillow. He closed his eyes first, then his breathing became heavy.

“John, hey,” Alex said in a hurry, hands on Laurens’ good shoulder, “John.”

Laurens’ eyes fluttered open. He looked at Hamilton in mild confusion, his hand reaching out to grab his friend’s. Alexander smiled weakly, worry visible in his expression.

“Alex,” he murmured, “hi.”

“God, stay awake, ok?”

“Okay,” he said.

It was quite an effort, to stay awake when he was that sick, but if that was enough to keep Hamilton happy, he’d try his best. The exhaustion in Alexander’s face showed that he’d gone through enough. To be the culprit of such damage was already quite the weight; Laurens’ didn’t want to hurt him any further.

“Can you talk to me?” John asked.

“Sure,” Alexander replied, “what do you want to hear?”

“Tell me about your odyssey to get here.”

Alexander chuckled fondly, “ah, I just borrowed a horse. Not much of a story if you ask me.”

“Did the General approve of it?”

“That…” Hamilton looked away, “I received some help, from Burr of all things. It’s kind of awkward really, I’m not sure you want to hear it.”

“I’d love to hear it,” Laurens murmured.

“I guess… Hell, John, I won’t lie, I went mad when I heard you’d been shot. I was scared out of my mind, thinking you were dying, and... well, Burr was there. He took pity on me and somehow convinced the General to let me come here.”

“That’s awfully contrived,” John laughed, “you sure you’re not lying to me so I feel a bit better?”

“Honest to God,” Alexander attempted to laugh too, “the idea of you being hurt had me so shaken, even a heartless ass like Aaron was moved by it. Burr has human emotions, who’d have thought!”

At this, Laurens laughed perhaps a bit too energetically, which left him winded and wincing. Alexander went pale with worry.

“Lord, don’t move,” Hamilton ordered as he stood up, “I’ll get someone.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” John grabbed Alexander’s wrist, pulled him a bit closer, “I wanna hear you talk.”

Their eyes met for a brief moment, a gesture as charged and intense as ever. Alexander saw the burning passion in John’s eyes, a sight he’d missed dearly. One that made him understand that he did not have to worry anymore. Whatever thing had been holding Laurens down had already faded.

“Enchanted enough by my voice to forget his grievous wounds,” Alex said, grinning smugly, “you’ll be your own doom, John Laurens.”

“Can’t a sick man ask for good news?” John said, snarky despite everything.

“Good news, let’s see…” 

The voices outside the tent were becoming distant. Blessed by the quietness of a slow morning, John and Alex were alone for once, the large tent offering them as much privacy as they’d be able to get. Alex moved closer to the cot, hands on John’s chest and shoulder, and began to speak in a honeyed, teasing tone.

“Well”, he said, “I heard some absolute fool finally got to see his beloved, despite having to ride for days in the snow to reach him.”

“That is good news,” Laurens agreed, as he slowly moved to a sitting position.

“I also heard some  _ other _ fool was recovering pretty well,” Alexander was moving closer to John with each word, “after heroically saving his friend from an ambush.”

“What a  lucky bastard,” John murmured, his voice fading when Alex’s lips finally met his own.

“Oh, I think the other guy’s the lucky one.”

Alexander could not stop grinning as he left a trail of gentle kisses down Laurens’ neck. John was laughing softly, uncharacteristically bashful; oh, how had he missed this, how had he forgotten just how fortunate he was? Alex was ridiculous, dauntless but so undeniably sweet. Laurens allowed himself to be caressed and kissed as he thought about the situation, absorbing them like they were the medicine he’d needed to numb his pain. Perhaps they truly were. He was feeling better already, his energy to fight renewed.

“Alright, enough,” John mumbled despite himself, “we might get caught.”

“One more,” Alexander said as he pressed his lips to Laurens’ forehead, “there, now I’m done. Still want to hear me talk?”

“Always. I’ve been away for a while, maybe you could update me on our work situation?”

“Yes sir!” Alexander said with a smile, but his expression was quick to change.

Perhaps it was a good moment- the perfect moment to ask. Something heavy had been weighing on Alex’s mind for days, and privacy was needed to discuss such an issue. He looked at John, focusing on the heavy bandages around his shoulder. Purple and red blossomed from under it, a color that matched that under John’s eyes. He needed to be sure. He needed to know if, like the General had suggested, this was what Laurens had been seeking.

“Actually, if you’d give me the chance”, Hamilton began to say, “there is something I needed to ask you.”

“Sure,” Laurens said, mildly confused.

Lafayette entered the tent before Alexander could speak. He looked radiant, having slept for the first time in days, the brightest smile on his face. He walked towards his friends, wholly unaware of the fact he was interrupting a moment. Alex knew he couldn’t complain.

“Oi, Gil!” he said, shaking the other man’s hand, “how did everything go?”

“Better than we thought!” Lafayette replied, “Laurens, dear, not to sound rude, but you’re the only thing keeping us here now.”

“That is rude,” Laurens murmured, although he was smiling. 

“I’ll be talking to the General tonight, since John can’t do his part,” Hamilton said, “though I gotta admit, almost dying like a martyr did give us points.”

“Always ready to help.” 

“After that, we should be ready to go back. So, you better get well soon.”

“Will do,” John said, his voice heavy and slow, “will do.”

 

* * *

The topic of conversation did not come up again until several days later. Laurens’ recovery had been amazingly quick, or so he claimed; the truth was that he was still weak from his wounds, but did not want to delay his friends’ travel any further. Being shot was not as bad as everyone made it up to be; as long as you survived the first few days, you were going to be fine. Hamilton refused to listen to this, no matter how many times John told him.

Lafayette left the camp first, having received a letter from the General urging his presence back at the office. Some days later, a similar note had been given to Hamilton, stating just how much work was awaiting for him, but not hurrying him in any way.

John and Alexander left the north camp at dawn on a Saturday. There were no words exchanged as they left, nor did they talk to each other through the day. The effort of riding through the snow was enough. It took them a whole day to complete what was hardly a third of the entire route, despite’s Alexander’s best efforts to keep a fast pace. By the time they stopped to sleep, Laurens was too sick to walk on his own, and needed Hamilton’s help to get down from his horse.

They prepared the smallest of campfires, sat around it wrapped in heavy blankets they had borrowed. The sky was starless above them, clouds restricting the view and threatening them with a rough night. John shivered under the blanket, too tired to speak or complain. Alexander chewed on a stale biscuit he had packed.

“Aren’t you gonna eat something?” he asked, looking at Laurens with concern.

“I’m good, thanks,” John replied, his voice merely a whisper.

Alexander frowned. He moved a bit closer to his friend, just for the other to move away. Hamilton couldn’t do anything but sigh, stoke the fire in an attempt to make the meager flame stronger. There were reasons to be concerned about their return, and Alex decided to focus on that rather than the present moment. He thought about Burr, hoped he’d kept his mouth shut.

It was John who brought up the subject, hours after they had settled, well into the night. He had been messing with his canteen for a while, swirling the water around like that made it multiply, when he broke the silence.

“You wanted to know something, but never asked.”

Alexander turned to face him, “I don’t remember anything.”

“I can tell you’re troubled, Hamilton, you’ve been awfully quiet today.”

He couldn’t argue against that. Alex took a deep breath, looked at the sky as if pleading for something. Laurens let out a chuckle, which made him turn around. He was smiling, kind and loving as always. The sight made Hamilton’s chest tighten. Now he remembered the question.

“Did you want to get shot?”

Laurens’ eyes widened in surprise, smile gone in an instant, “wha- why would I want that?”

“Because suicide’s more difficult.”

“Alexander,” Laurens began to say, but his voice was gone before he could continue.

“I’m not judging you, but I need to know,” Alex said in a rush, phrases mixing together in a confusing amalgam, “if that’s what’s happening, I need a way to prevent it, can’t let you, don’t know what’s going on. Did something happen? Do you need help?”

“Alex, it’s not-”

“It’s like you’re  _ seeking _ death, always getting hurt, taking every chance you get to put yourself in harm’s way. It’s one thing to be dutiful, one thing to be  _ reckless _ , but you’ve gone past that. What the hell is wrong with you?”

There was an uncomfortable silence. Eyes locked on each other, the two young men waited for words to come, to free them from the moment’s pain. Laurens seemed scared, a sight Alexander did not like at all. Fear did not fit him. It was unsettling.

“I don’t know,” John finally said, still looking into Alexander’s eyes.

Silence. Hands turned into tight fists. Laurens was terrified, seemingly ready to attack an invisible enemy. Hamilton understood the message quickly. Whatever was hurting John was not an external threat; it was something eating him from the inside, a shapeless monster that Alexander could not fight. He was helpless, they were helpless. Alex leaned forward and rested his hand on John’s thigh.

“You know you have things to do here, right?” Hamilton began to say, hoping he was making sense, “no one has your tenacity, or has such noble goals. Are you forgetting your plans?”

“I’m sure someone else could do them even better.”

“You weren’t afraid of dying.”

“Never have been.”

“Does that mean you  _ want  _ to die?”

“I don’t, but I don’t particularly want to be alive, either.”

“John.”

“I’m not making sense, am I?”

“No, you are. You are.”

John bit into his closed fist, a futile attempt to distract himself from the tension the moment had caused. Alex’s hand felt like burning coal against his leg, the heat anything but soothing. If only he was as good with words as his friend was, he could explain, but he’d always been useless; useless clarifications coming from an useless mouth.

“I’m just like this, I guess. Always have been. I don’t think it’s something that can be changed. You…” John trailed off, grasped his friend’s hand on his own, “you are the best thing in my life, and you help me so much, but this…” he pointed at himself, “I’m John Laurens, Alex. That can’t be fixed. You shouldn’t worry about it.”

“Does this mean…?” Alexander couldn’t finish the sentence, all the air suddenly gone from his lungs as realization hit.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve left you alone when I had the chance.”

“No, it’s fine,” Alex growled, shook his head gently as if that helped clear his thoughts.

It didn’t.

“I don’t want to bring you down with all this crap.”

“It’s not- I care about you, John.”

“But that’s my fault, too.”

“God, Laurens, you’re just talking nonsense now."

“I know.”

Alexander let out a sigh, mind scrambled and wrath growing inside him. He leaned forward and rested his hands on John’s shoulders, pulling him into a forceful kiss. John gasped in surprise, stunned for an instant before responding in earnest. The pain on his right shoulder was inebriating. Defiant and desperate, Laurens was quick to take control, turning what was a simple kiss into a messy display, all teeth and tongue and cut-off whimpers. He bit Alexander’s lower lip and dug his fingernails into the other’s back.

Alexander stopped him.

For once, Hamilton didn’t allow himself to be caught by John’s blaze, pushing him away instead, making him slow down. He then kissed him again, methodical and strong, until Laurens stopped responding, going limp on his arms. He hugged John tightly, turning himself into an anchor. With his friend this close, Alexander could tell Laurens was burning up, eyes clouded by the fever he’d been trying to hide. 

The kiss ended as abruptly as it had begun. The two young men were left panting, drained and dizzy. Laurens was grasping his wounded shoulder, eyes closed as he tried to focus on anything else. Hamilton observed him carefully, still confused as to what had gone wrong. He wanted to do something, anything, but he was too overwhelmed to act.

“Is this how it’s going to be?” Alexander said, voice ragged and low.

“Huh?”

“You, getting hurt until you succeed and die. Is this going to keep happening?”

“I…” John stuttered, “yeah, I guess. It’s kind of fucked like that.”

“I see.” 

The General was right. Burr was right. Alexander went back to his place, eyes on the fire in front of him, and took another biscuit from his bag. His canteen was next to the food, and he grabbed it too. He stared at it for a moment, then shoved it into John’s hands. 

“Drink.”

“You barely have any water left.”

“Drink, goddamnit, you’re feverish.”

“I think I might throw up if I drink anything.”

Alexander took a deep breath. He closed his eyes tightly, then reached for the flask. Careful this time, he wrapped an arm around Laurens’ shoulders, holding the canteen to John’s lips with his free hand. Laurens hesitated, putting his hands around the container too before taking a sip.

“I’m sorry, Jacky,” Alex said, voice broken, “I don’t know how else to help.”

Laurens felt as if his heart itself had been gripped and ripped from his chest, “it’s fine.”

“Will you be alright?” Hamilton asked.

“I don’t know,” Laurens murmured, tone still charged with fear, “will you be here?”

_ “I chose this, Alexander,”  _ Burr’s words echoed on Hamilton’s head, “ _ I knew what I was getting into. Even if nothing works out at the end, I’ve already made a decision _ . 

It was like a distant call, a mockery in hindsight; a mockery and a challenge, but still a sensical statement: Even a man like Aaron could be sure about the one he loved. Hamilton took a deep breath. The road ahead was grim and uncertain, but so was everything else in his life; this would not be different, they would last. He held Laurens hand and hoped the gesture was enough.

* * *

Burr was waiting for them at the camp’s entrance. He and Hamilton exchanged one knowing look, then both helped John get to his feet, each with a hand on his shoulder as they walked towards the cabins.

Laurens was called into the office as soon as they arrived. The General had some strong words to say about his reckless behaviour, far less impressed by his bravery than everyone else had been. Years later, upon receiving his first command, Hamilton would hear those same words coming from the General’s mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it!  
> I'm sorry this got so long and so weird. From next part on, we'll be back with one-shots in present tense. A part of me wishes I'd gone all the way with the drama and violence for this one, but at the same time I don't want to dwell too much on it.
> 
> I would really love some comments on this, to know how it was for you! No need for it to be positive, I want to learn and improve.
> 
> Special thanks to Ki_writes for being an awesome beta reader!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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